


co-ed

by entwashian



Category: Dead Like Me
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-31
Updated: 2014-10-31
Packaged: 2018-02-23 08:42:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2541413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entwashian/pseuds/entwashian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>George gets a special assignment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	co-ed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [empty_marrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/empty_marrow/gifts).



“Wait, I get the day off?” George asked, surprise tinting her voice.

Roxy rolled her eyes as she slid out of the booth, Mason & Daisy following behind her. Each of them had a post-it clutched in hand.

“You’re with me today,” Rude answered, calmly sipping his coffee.

“Bullshit!” George said. “I thought we were done with the hand-holding. I haven’t even had a fuck-up in se—“ she trailed off, looking at the board where Kiffany was writing out Thursday’s specials, “— **six** days!”

“You’re not a fuck-up, peanut,” Rube said, sliding a few folded bills underneath his now-empty cup. “You don’t have an assignment today because I need your help with my reap.”

George felt her eyebrows rising high on her face. “ _You_ need _my_ help?”

“You possess a particular skill set that will come in handy,” Rube said, sliding his cap on as he walked away from the booth.

“What? No, I don’t,” George argued, trailing along behind him.

  


* * *

  


“So _this_ is my super-secret special skill?” George asked flatly. “The ability to look like a high school student?”

“It’s rare among reapers,” Rube replied. “You should be grateful for the gifts you’ve been given.”

“I guess Santa didn’t get my memo about the Polly Pocket playset,” George said. She eyed the door. It wasn’t too far away; she could still make a break for it. Rube wouldn’t be able to catch her, probably.

He hummed under his breath as if he knew what she was thinking.

“Mr. Sofer?” a perky voice asked. A wiry middle-aged woman stepped out from behind the office door.

“A. Byrd?” Rube asked, extending a hand toward her in greeting.

“Please, call me April,” she said, taking the offered hand. George kept her face blank as Rube completed the handshake, pulling April’s soul from within her body as he withdrew his hand from her grasp. “Welcome to Seattle University!” she chirped without missing a beat.

“Thanks for meeting with us on such short notice,” Rube said.

“If you’re busy, we could always come back another time,” George said hopefully.

“It’s no trouble at all,” April said cheerily. “Truth be told, it does me good to get out of the office every so often to tour the campus.”

“Please excuse my daughter, Millie,” Rube said, wrapping an arm around George’s shoulders. “You know how kids are at this age. She’s determined to go to school out of state -- as far from her family as possible. But I want her to see the opportunities she has right here at home.”

“I hope you’ll keep an open mind, Millie,” April said with an enthusiastic smile that seemed permanently etched into her face. “I think we have a bright future together.”

“I doubt that,” George muttered. The corners of April’s smile faltered slightly. 

“Where’s the first stop on the tour?” Rube asked, drawing April’s attention.

“We could head across the Thinking Field to the school library.” April gladly redirected her exuberance back to Rube.

“Perfect,” he said as George mouthed, _’Thinking Field,’_ at him in quiet horror.

April pushed open the front door to the office, stepping out into the sunshine. 

A graveling ran across the grassy lawn in front of her.


End file.
